Fu Tingyun stared wide-eyed at the middle-aged man before her, feeling that she had seen him somewhere before, but unable to recall where, no matter how hard she tried. A trace of confusion flashed in her eyes.
Old Chai smiled bitterly and said in a low voice: “Miss Fu, do you remember the shop selling Hui Muslim headscarves in Yongjing County?”
“Ah!” Fu Tingyun suddenly remembered and couldn’t help but exclaim, “You, how did you become like this?”
In that headscarf shop in Yongjing County, she and Zhao Ling had met the third manager of Datong Trading Company, Ye Shouxin.
At that time, Manager Ye had been dressed in fine clothes, with an extraordinary bearing. But now, he was so thin that his entire appearance had changed—a pale, sickly face, shabby clothes, looking utterly destitute. There was no trace of his former self, so it was no wonder Fu Tingyun hadn’t recognized him.
Manager Ye hurriedly made a gesture to lower her voice and smiled bitterly: “Please, Miss Fu, don’t make it known. Just call me Old Chai. For your great kindness, please allow me to repay you properly after I escape this danger…”
Although she didn’t know what had happened, since Zhao Ling had entrusted this person to her, he wanted to help him. She smoothly addressed him as “Old Chai” and said warmly and enthusiastically: “You’re too polite. Everyone has times of difficulty. I can see you look exhausted, you must have had a hard journey.” As she spoke, she called Zheng San in, “This is a friend Master Nine made in Yongchang Guard, called Old Chai. Please take care of Old Chai and help him rest!”
Zheng San had first seen Manager Ye at the inn in Yongchang Guard.
As escorts who traveled throughout the realm, Zheng San naturally had to be observant. However, he never dreamed that the Datong Trading Company’s third manager, who could easily move hundreds of thousands of taels of silver, would suddenly appear in their home in such a state. With Fu Tingyun’s prompt, he immediately recognized Manager Ye. Though shocked inside, only a brief flash of surprise crossed his eyes. Realizing there must be some underlying circumstances, he calmly acknowledged with a “Yes” and respectfully invited Old Chai to go rest.
Manager Ye was, after all, a man who had traveled widely. Seeing that even a small household manager in Zhao Ling’s home had such poise, he nodded secretly in approval. His taut nerves relaxed a little as he followed Zheng San to rest in the adjacent room.
Though a tiger fallen to the plains might be bullied by dogs, a tiger is still a tiger.
Zheng San dared not be negligent. He took out a newly made lilac-colored padded robe for Manager Ye to change into, personally brought hot water to help him bathe, and when Manager Ye had finished tidying up, Zheng Sanniang brought chicken soup on Fu Tingyun’s orders.
Manager Ye was quite emotional and gratefully thanked the couple.
“There’s no need to be so formal with us. This is all on our young miss’s instructions,” Zheng Sanniang said with a smile to Manager Ye. “Our miss also said that Master Nine and Commander He are drinking in the hall and probably won’t finish for some time. If you’re tired, Old Chai, you can rest in our room first. My son and I will move to the side room next to our miss. If there’s anything, Master Nine will surely give instructions, so please rest easy!”
Zheng Sanniang was telling Manager Ye that since he was pretending to be Master Nine’s servant, and there were guests in the house, he must not slip up.
“Then I’ll rest for a while,” Manager Ye understood and immediately said, “If Master Nine has any instructions, please call me, Zheng Sanniang.”
“Please don’t worry. If anything comes up, I’ll tell you,” Zheng Sanniang smiled as she took away the empty bowl after Manager Ye had finished his chicken soup and returned to the kitchen.
Fu Tingyun was making camel hoof soup. Upon hearing Zheng Sanniang’s report, she nodded and asked her to take the freshly baked flatbreads to the hall.
Zheng Sanniang went as instructed. While serving the dishes, she overheard Commander He Xiulin speaking admiringly of Fu Tingyun: “…I didn’t expect she could also cook so well.”
“She is very capable,” Zhao Ling smiled as he praised Tingyun, refilling Commander He’s empty wine cup. “I’m also going to see the Marquis tomorrow. Why don’t we go together?”
He Xiulin had met Zhao Ling on the post road to Zhangye after the banquet. Zhao Ling had introduced himself, and they had become acquainted. Throughout their journey, He Xiulin found Zhao Ling articulate and impressive. Despite his young age, Zhao Ling had taken over the position of Battalion Commander of Nianbo with the support of the Marquis of Yingchuan—someone worth befriending. Hearing Zhao Ling’s suggestion, he immediately smiled and replied: “Sounds good! We’ll go together then.”
Zhao Ling then complained about his low salary: “…If it weren’t for these little supplements from home, life would be really difficult!”
He Xiulin laughed heartily: “If we had to rely on our official salaries to live, we’d all be surviving on northwest wind.”
The two conversed happily, drinking until the early hours before dispersing.
He Xiulin spent the night in Zhao Ling’s room.
Early the next morning, after giving some instructions, Zhao Ling went to the Commander’s residence with He Xiulin.
By noon, it started raining again, and the rain grew heavier. Eventually, dark clouds gathered, thunder roared, lightning flashed, and rain poured down in torrents.
“Spring rain brings warmth, autumn rain brings cold,” Fu Tingyun said with some concern as she sat on the kang doing needlework with Zheng Sanniang, watching the rain cascade like a waterfall from the eaves. “I wonder what Master Nine is doing? Such heavy rain—if he gets soaked, it’s no laughing matter.”
“I think that An Xin, who’s with Master Nine, is very astute,” Zheng Sanniang comforted Fu Tingyun. “He’ll surely act according to the situation.”
As they were speaking, Zhao Ling and An Xin ran in through the rain.
Both were soaked to the skin.
Fu Tingyun and the others busied themselves—some boiling ginger soup, some heating water, some finding clothes to change into… After bustling about for quite some time, they finally got Zhao Ling and An Xin properly settled.
Zhao Ling, drinking ginger soup, asked about Manager Ye: “Where is he? Is he alright?”
Zheng San answered: “…He slept from yesterday until noon today before waking up. He has seven or eight knife wounds, though none in vital areas, but they’re all raw and bloody. I think we need to find some wound medicine!”
Fu Tingyun recalled the wound medicine Madam Wang had left her and hurriedly said: “I have wound medicine here, but it will leave ugly scars after use.”
“At a time like this, life is what matters,” Zhao Ling smiled. “Who cares about scars?”
Hearing this, Fu Tingyun quickly found the wound medicine in her trunk and gave it to Zheng San. Zheng San took the medicine to treat Manager Ye’s wounds, and Zhao Ling patted the edge of the kang beside him, saying with a smile: “I know you have many questions for me. Let’s sit down and talk.”
Fu Tingyun saw that he was adopting an ‘I’ll confess everything’ attitude before she even asked, which both irritated and amused her. She sat down by the kang and said with mild reproach: “What does Master Nine think I would ask?”
Zhao Ling pretended to think deeply and said: “You probably want to ask where I went on the fifteenth day of the eighth month, right?”
This rascal! He knew she was worried, yet he hadn’t said a word yesterday!
Fu Tingyun didn’t want to satisfy Zhao Ling and instead asked: “I want to know how Manager Ye ended up in such a state?”
“He was bringing back a large amount of gold and spices this time. He was hijacked by horse bandits on the way and escaped to Taiping Fort, where I happened to rescue him.”
Fu Tingyun was slightly puzzled: “If that’s the case, Master Nine should have taken him to see the Marquis of Yingchuan. Why hide him in our home? Could it be that the horse bandits who robbed him are connected to the Marquis of Yingchuan?”
Zhao Ling’s eyes flashed with a hint of approval, and he lowered his voice: “The horse bandits have no connection with the Marquis of Yingchuan, but they are connected to the Marquis of Xiping.”
Fu Tingyun became even more confused.
“There have been rumors for several years that the Marquis of Xiping has been maintaining a group of horse bandits who specifically rob merchant caravans passing through Jiayuguan.” Zhao Ling’s expression became solemn and somewhat cold. “With my current strength, I’m not yet able to deal with the Marquis of Xiping, who has been guarding Liangzhou for a hundred years. So I sent San Fu to investigate the horse bandits, hoping to get evidence that the Marquis of Xiping is supporting them. This way, I can create a small conflict between the Marquis of Yingchuan and the Marquis of Xiping… You should know that the relationship between these two Marquises is very delicate.”
Somehow, Fu Tingyun thought of Concubine Xiao. She listened attentively.
“The imperial court gave the Marquis of Yingchuan the seal of the General for Pacifying Qiang and command of the Regional Military Commission, yet they still let the Marquis of Xiping, whose family has guarded Liangzhou for generations, remain there. This is obviously to use the Marquis of Xiping to check the Marquis of Yingchuan. The Marquis of Yingchuan understands this, which is why he’s been so tolerant of the Marquis of Xiping—the Marquis of Xiping is mediocre and incapable, no match for the Marquis of Yingchuan. If the Marquis of Yingchuan were to break this balance, the imperial court would surely send someone else to restrain him. Rather than facing another fierce struggle later, it’s better to maintain the current situation.”
Fu Tingyun nodded slightly as she listened.
“And what I want to do now is to break this equilibrium,” Zhao Ling said, his eyes revealing a powerful confidence that made him appear stern and imposing. “As long as I get evidence that the Marquis of Xiping is supporting horse bandits to rob merchant caravans, and create some traces to make the Marquis of Xiping mistakenly believe that the Marquis of Yingchuan orchestrated it, if the Marquis of Xiping tries to compromise with the Marquis of Yingchuan, but the Marquis of Yingchuan can’t return the evidence, they will become like fire and water, never able to reconcile. At that point, only two scenarios could emerge. One is that the Marquis of Yingchuan, unable to bear the harassment, simply deals with the Marquis of Xiping once and for all. Two is that he gives the Marquis of Xiping a severe beating, forcing him to stay quietly in Liangzhou and never dare to move again.” At this point, he smiled at Fu Tingyun, “Whether it’s the former or the latter, the Marquis of Xiping presumably won’t have the energy to bother with us anymore.” Then he said, “On the day of the Mid-Autumn Festival, San Fu came to find me for this very matter—he discovered that those horse bandits had all left their lair and gathered at Jinta Temple, not far from Jiayuguan.” His gaze toward Fu Tingyun revealed guilt, “You know, I only have Yang Yucheng, Jin Yuanbao, and a few others I can use. Yang Yucheng was kept in Zhuanglang Guard by Lu Cheng, and Jin Yuanbao was kept at Jiayuguan by the Marquis of Yingchuan, who now has made an excuse to go to the capital. I had no choice but to go personally to Jinta Temple.”
He was exhausting himself for their future…
Fu Tingyun hurriedly said, “I know you must have encountered something urgent. We have the Mid-Autumn Festival every year. We can go see the lanterns next year just the same.”
Hearing this, Zhao Ling seemed to suddenly remember something and smiled: “Wait a moment!” Then he dashed through the rain to his inner room in the west of the main building, and soon ran back through the rain again.